


My Enchanted Fairy Tale

by Moonrose91



Series: A Collection of WIPs [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Gen, I keep losing URLs, I wish I was kidding about that, Prompt Fic, Prompt fic I am half rewriting half making sure I post so I can actually update it regularly, Seriously I just threw together a lot of stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/5102.html?thread=5289454">
    <em>This is the prompt</em>
  </a>
</p><p> </p><p>Clint Barton is known as Hawkeye, infamous thief and self-proclaimed 'Greatest Marksman in the World.'</p><p>Coulson is his giant, talking, black wolf companion.</p><p>King Fury is the king of the great kingdom of Shield that Clint's managed to piss off.</p><p>Princess Natasha is a kidnapped princess.</p><p>It seems pretty straight forward; rescue the princess, get a full pardon, continue on with his life.</p><p>It is never that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Amazing Hawkeye

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Enchanted Fairytale](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/13613) by Moonrose91. 



A dark and silent figure settled a specialized arrow on his bow and aimed. He settled and released it. The arrow flew, a strong rope trailing and it hooked over the edge of the wall. The figure tested it and nodded in satisfaction upon feeling it was strong. "Knew it would be worth the money I paid that witch to make sure that it would hook right," he stated and began to carefully scale the wall.  
  
"This...this is stupid, Clint. I shouldn't be helping you. In fact, I should be walking away, dragging you with my teeth," a voice, dry and unremarkable, stated from the darkness below and Clint turned around to glare at the large wolf, black as a starless and moonless night and with grey eyes that gleamed with annoyance.  
  
"Look, Coulson, you can either help, or I will ignore you. Also, don't call me Clint. When we are on a job, it is 'Hawkeye' or, better yet, 'Hawkeye, the Greatest Marksman in the World'," Clint stated and the large wolf let out a long sigh.  
  
"Of course you are," Coulson, the huge, giant, freaking wolf that was large enough to ride, retorted and settled into the shadows, blending in seamlessly, omitting the eyes that watched him.  
  
Clint shrugged and continued, easily flipping over.  
  
The Castle of Fury, as ruled by King Nicholas Fury. He had a...ward or something. Really, Clint didn't care about that. Now, the layout.  
  
The  _layout_  he was more interested in. The guard routes around the 'crown jewel', as it were, of Fury's treasury room. He continued to move through the darkness, carefully moving until he reached the treasury room. He carefully entered, through the skylight, and grinned upon seeing the glowing casket in the center of deep red.  
  
The heart of an ancient dragon, who served Fury on the condition the heart remained safe. A long line of Furys insured that it was safe and...well, Clint was being paid a _handsome_  amount to get it. He carefully took hold of it when a roar shook the very floor beneath his feet. " _ **GUARDS!**  Intruder in the tower treasury room!_"  
  
"Shit!" Clint shouted and moved to climb back out, only to get blasted back by a magical shield. He flew across the room and groaned. The sound of soldiers moving and he opened his eyes to find spears pointed at him.  
  
He gave a nervous laugh and looked around.  
  
The only thought going through his mind was 'Next time, I'm listening to Coulson.'


	2. The Price of Theft

Clint yanked his arm around, the shackles clattering slightly with each movement, as he tried to remove himself from the grip on his guards. He snarled and tried to throw himself away from them, even though he knew it was useless. He just fought their grips because he wanted them to know, know for a fact he wasn't an easy catch. He swung his head around and tried to hit one of them in the head, and he groaned as it collided with armor.  
  
Okay, that was a bad idea and he let out a groan as he was forced on his knees in front of the King. The man had one-eye; the other had a patch over it.  
  
He looked...scary.  
  
Actually, scary might be kind of nice.  
  
He was flat out terrifying.  
  
“This is the man who broke into the tower treasury and tried to steal a dragon’s heart?” he asked.  
  
“Yes sir, we caught him red-handed,” the guard on his left stated and Clint rolled his eyes.  
  
“Did it ever occur to anyone that maybe I was framed?” Clint asked, but the one-eyed king glared at him.  
  
“Is this a trend? Because the king of Asgard is the same way,” Clint stated and winced when he was hit, hard, by the guard.  
  
He felt blood flood his mouth, pretty sure that he bit his tongue and he spat the blood out onto the guard’s feet, making sure King Nicholas knew who he was disrespecting. He was about to get kicked when the King stood up suddenly, aborting the motion. “That is enough Sir Roswell,” Fury ordered and the guard stood down.  
  
Clint let out a sigh of relief and tensed when he heard the sound of snarling and scrambling of wolf claws on stone. He turned slightly and he stared in horror as Coulson was dragged in, a crude muzzle cutting into his jaws. He was trying to scramble away, seven guards on each chain keeping him from doing so. The giant wolf whined lowly and was eventually forced to lie on the ground, the guards managing to hold him down.  
  
Fury raised an eyebrow at it. “Giant wolf…man breaking into treasury room…you must be Clint Barton,” the man stated.  
  
Clint leaned back slightly. “I prefer, Hawkeye, the Greatest Marksman in the World,” he stated and coughed as he was punched in the solar plexus.  
  
“Okay, that’s it. Someone take this moron to the dungeon. And Barton, stop digging yourself into a hole,” Fury stated and Clint coughed a bit, nodding, as Roswell was hauled off.  
  
Fury sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose and the guards made sure Clint was turned slightly so he could easily see Fury, who was slowly approaching where Coulson was being held down.  
  
“You know, usually the punishment for stealing is a nice, long, sentence in jail. Stealing, or trying to steal, my dragon’s heart, is a bit more complicated than that. You see, usually it is death. Now, you see, you have this giant companion that, I’m sure, won’t just sit quietly by while we execute you and I really don’t have a place to keep him out of the way. And my dragon, loves wolf meat. So, before I execute you, I got to execute him first,” Fury stated and Clint felt his heart drop, his eyes riveting to the big black wolf, who just closed his eyes in acceptance.  
  
“Kill him,” Fury ordered and a guard moved to do so, the spear shining in the firelight as the weapon began to descend.


	3. The Price of Freedom

The giant wolf, who had always been there for him, even through his mercenary days until he became a thief, protecting from the shadows and  _always_  there. His friend and guardian, someone who Clint could  _always_  depend on.  
  
He couldn't let him die.   
  
“No!” Clint shouted and Fury immediately waved his hand. The spear swung to the side, cutting some fur, but not getting anywhere close to piercing flesh and Clint slumped over in relief, even though he never looked away from Coulson, his companion since he was a child.  
  
Coulson’s blue-grey eyes opened, surprise obvious, and looked at him. Clint just gave him a shaky smile before he forced his eyes away to look up at the King of Shield.  
  
The only sounds in the air was the soft crackle of fire, the occasional shift of someone's weight and Clint's panting, the fear-driven adrenaline making it feel like he had run a marathon. “Apparently, the rumors about you aren’t true. You do care about someone besides yourself,” Fury stated as Clint made himself nod, even as Coulson whined lowly, though Clint couldn't tell if it was from rage or something else.  
  
“What do I have to do, to keep us  _both_  alive…and free?” Clint asked.  
  
“Glad you asked. Two weeks earlier, Princess Natasha, my ward, was abducted and captured by the Emperor of Lateveria, Victor von Doom. I’m employing you to get her back,” Fury answered and Clint resisted the urge to glower at the king.  
  
This seemed too much like a set-up for him. “Consider her returned to you, the minute I get my bow, my quiver, all my arrows, and my wolf back,” Clint stated and Fury stared at him. His eye was heavy on Clint and Clint glared slightly at him, eyes narrowing.  
  
“Not sure about the wolf. Not sure if, without him, you would come back,” Fury stated and Clint tensed.  
  
"The only time I have  _ever_  broken my word, was when it involved a job becoming too dangerous. I guarantee that I'll come back, with your daughter, to not be executed or thrown into prison immediately upon my arrival, and allowed to leave this  _fair_  kingdom, once she is safely back with you," Clint answered and Fury sighed.  
  
"Not good enough. You see, you are a criminal. A thief of the highest caliber. There is no honor among thieves," Fury stated and Clint glared a little more.  
  
" _I_  have honor, your Majesty. It is the one thing that insures I get jobs even after I fail one. If I break my word now, I'll have to become a mercenary," Clint stated, keeping silent about the 'again' part of that statement.  
  
No need for him to know about that.  
  
Fury sighed and then his eyes slid to Coulson. Clint followed his gaze and almost snarled. "Well, there is another option. You see, dragon magic...dragon magic is a beautiful thing. I have a collar that would  _just_  fit your wolf. Return the fair Princess Natasha to me safely, and I'll remove the collar from your companion. Run, and your companion will suffocate to death," Fury stated and Clint felt the color drain from his face while Coulson snarled lowly, trying to fight the chains anew.  
  
Of course.  
  
Damn bastard of a wolf.  
  
Could accept his fate without a whimper, but use him as collateral against Clint?  
  
Suddenly he wanted to fight. Fury pulled his sword and placed it under Clint's chin, the tip  _just_  against Clint's throat. Coulson immediately stilled and Fury glanced at Clint. "Deal or no deal. Because, you tried to steal my dragon's heart. Don't think I won't make you regret that with every last breath you have," Fury stated and Clint stared.  
  
"Fine. Your princess in return for our freedom and our lives," Clint stated.  
  
"Done. Get the collar and collar the beast before we let Hawkeye here, on his way," Fury ordered and some guards moved to obey.

Clint just glared up at him, silently vowing vengeance.  
  
This, this  _stank_  of a set up. Because, while Clint might not be able to use magic, there was no  _way_  that collar was just lying around. He grunted as he was yanked to his feet, once the plain collar of woven leather and metal, was slipped onto Coulson's neck. Both were released simultaneously, and Clint was handed back his bow and his quiver, which was filled with arrows, including the special one, which had crow feathers instead of turkey or goose feathers.  
  
He didn't wait for the dismissal, he just left. Coulson quickly heeled.  
  
Fury watched them leave dispassionately.  
  
Once the large doors shut, Maria Hill, a peasant turned adviser after saving King Nicholas's life, came forward. "Sir, how did you know that would happen?" she asked.  
  
"It is amazing what one will do for the right amount of money," Fury answered and Maria opened her mouth, most likely to ask, before she shut it again.  
  
She didn't think she would be able to look the archer-thief in the eye when he came back if she knew, for a fact, he had been set up.


	4. Decisions

The forest was quiet as Coulson and Clint slid through the darkness, moonlight peering through the leaves and, on occasion, causing the metal in the collar to gleam dully. “This would go faster if you just got onto my back,” Coulson stated, and Clint glowered.  
  
“No. You’ve been humiliated enough today,” Clint growled and Coulson immediately slid so he stood in front of Clint.  
  
“Clint…” he began, only to get cut off by Clint in saying, “It’s  _Hawkeye_  while on the job.”  
  
Coulson let out a low snarl and let his ears flatten against his head in a warning before he went back to neutrality. “What happened today was  _not_  your fault. That much money, I would have taken it too. You know, if I was human and actually needed money. But I’m not. And we’ve walked away from this with one thing,” Coulson stated and Clint grinned a sharp grin, almost predatory.  
  
“Yeah. A nice, deep rooted, unadulterated  _hatred_  for King Fury,” Clint interrupted and Coulson’s ears flicked slightly in irritation.  
  
“Fine, two things. The second is the fact that, when I say something is a bad idea,  _listen to the giant, talking, wolf_ ,” Coulson stated and Clint let out a sigh.  
  
He winced when Coulson sat down and began to scratch at his neck, obviously trying to scratch under the collar and Clint hummed softly. Coulson paused and Clint shifted the collar before scratching the itch. The wolf immediately relaxed and massive jaws opening to allow his tongue to loll out. Clint smiled weakly at the sight, before he slowed his hand down and carefully wrapped his arms around the large wolf’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  
  
Coulson shifted and nodded. “I accept the unnecessary apology,” he stated and Clint let out a weak laugh.  
  
However, despite the night being young, both knew neither would get moving any time soon. So, Coulson shook a little and Clint released him. With that, he lay down and Clint rested against him. Coulson curled up tightly, Clint’s head buried into his side, near his front legs, and let out a low sigh.  
  
Within minutes, Clint was asleep, but Coulson was wide awake.  
  
It didn’t take long after that for a form to appear in front of him. “You know, if you die, you can’t help him,” the figure stated and the wolf’s ears pinned against his head.  
  
He then sighed. “Sometimes, I think that is the best option. He has to learn how to live without me, one day,” Coulson stated.  
  
The figure’s head shifted to the side. “Why? Why not just stay and protect him till the end of his days?” she asked, the spell slipping up slightly.  
  
It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen her for awhile, but he knew. She liked hiding in moonlight too much. “I don’t know,” Coulson admitted softly.  
  
“Figure it out  _soon_  Coulson, or you’ll find that the choice will be made  _for_  you, and you might not like it,” she stated and, with that, she disappeared, leaving no more trace then a moonbeam.  
  
Coulson let out a sigh and glanced at Clint, who was…still passed out. His ears flicked a bit and, with that, he closed his eyes, slipping into sleep himself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Clint managed to come to terms with his issues (also known as Coulson made him) and he got on Coulson's back at noon the next day. Neither particularly liked to travel during the day and would probably just travel till they grew exhausted. Nothing...exciting happened.  
  
Well, until they have to chose between taking a 'road' (a hunter's trail) that would take them into the 'no man's land' between the Kingdom of Shield and the Laterverian Empire, or go through the Enchanted Wood which was not as nice as it sounded. 'Cursed Wood' or 'Haunted Forest' or 'For the Love of all that is Holy, if you have any sanity, do  _not_ , I repeat,  _ **do not**_  enter this place Forest' would be more accurate of a name. Clint was pretty sure that once upon a time, it might have been called that last one, at least until someone decided to make it sound like a vacation spot.  
  
Clint was considering his options while Coulson napped in the dying sun. "Which way?" Clint asked suddenly and Coulson looked up.  
  
"The safest route would be the hunter's trail," Coulson stated.  
  
"Enchanted Wood it is!" Clint stated gleefully and Coulson let out a low sigh.  
  
"Of course," he muttered and carefully followed after him.  
  
As they entered the forest, wood, same thing, Clint noticed that Coulson walked slowly. He kept sniffing the air and he turned around slightly. "What is it?" Clint asked.  
  
"Something's...different," Coulson stated.  
  
"What do you mean?" Clint asked.  
  
Before Coulson could answer, they heard a distant roar. Clint immediately had his bow at the ready, an arrow knocked and Coulson tensed, fangs baring silently. There was another roar and the sound of trees crashing. Clint didn't have time to react before Coulson suddenly leaps at him, knocking him to the side as a giant, green, monster plowed through with a roar.  
  
Coulson hunkered over Clint protectively, jaws bared as he began to growl. The green rage monster roared at Coulson, who merely took a more protective stance. Coulson's tail rose into alpha position and he snarled more. The rage monster moved to hit Coulson and giant wolf jumped, jaws sinking into the rage monster's wrist. It yanked up, but Coulson released, dropping easily.  
  
"Clint, run!" Coulson ordered, before turning his attention back to the green giant.  
  
Clint let off an arrow, only to have it shatter against his skin.  
  
Clint ran at that, mostly because Coulson had to hit the green giant to get him distracted. Clint ran until he could hear only distant roars of the monster.  
  
Clint, privately, cursed himself. He cursed himself for not being able to help Coulson, twice, and for getting them into this situation. He cursed King Nicholas and he finished it up by decided that this damn princess was more trouble then she was worth.  
  
He let out a sigh as silence, eventually, settled on the forest. Clint worried about Coulson and twisted around when he heard a sound. Arrow on his bow a second later, he aimed it into the darkness only to find he was aiming it at Coulson, who was alive, if not entirely whole, considering he was limping and moving slowly.  
  
Clint immediately lowered his bow, put it away and rushed forward, wrapping his arms around the giant wolf. Coulson let him until he said, "Clint, your hand is digging into one of my injuries."  
  
Clint released him and winced when he saw the red. Coulson licked his cheek gently and let out a low groan. "Let's go get me taken care of, then take the quickest route out of here. We'll go along the ridge so we can come out on the back side of Emperor Doom's castle, opposite of what we did to break in there last year," Coulson advised and Clint let out a low laugh before nodding.  
  
Carefully, they made their way back to a rocky spring.  
  
And only Coulson heard the distant sound of hoof-beats and a worried voice shouting one word.  
  
 _Bruce._


	5. Rescue

Clint sighed as he braced himself amongst the rocks, staring down onto the ominous castle that was the Emperor of Latevaria’s favorite, where he kept all his best things, and where the highest paying jobs were usually aimed, and where the threat to life and limb was at its highest. “Well, the original way won’t work,” Clint stated and Coulson snorted softly.

Clint glanced back at the giant wolf, who was completely healed a month after fighting with a giant green rage monster and he sighed a bit at the concerned look Coulson was leveling at him. “What?” he questioned.

“I have just noticed that you have this irritating habit of not being concerned when faced with a former target,” Coulson answered calmly and Clint merely grinned.

“Yes, well, if I got worried about _that_ , I would never take a job, and I would never have money, and would be living as a hermit in the middle of the Enchanted Wood,” Clint responded, turning back around to stare down at the castle.

“That would certainly be easier on my blood pressure, I am sure,” Coulson muttered.

“You know, you could be more supportive,” Clint pointed out.

"I am being supportive. I am not walking away," Coulson answered and Clint heard Coulson walk forward to join him in scoping out the giant castle.

The archer-thief glanced over at his massive companion before he settled down more into the rocks and let his eyes flicker across. The towers were obvious, but difficult to secure. While the ‘bowl’ allowed it to be easily protected, it also made holding prisoners in the towers a stupid, stupid, choice.

However, that had never stopped Doom from putting various rare artifacts of unspeakable magical power there.

So, if he were an evil emperor, where would he lock a princess away for marriage?

Because, really, any other reason just didn’t fit.

The dungeons, most likely.

Wondrous.

Now, where to get in from?  
  
"Go through the kitchen," Coulson muttered and Clint stared at him.  
  
"I'm being supportive," he snapped and Clint gave a shrug before he began to head down.

“I know, but you usually don’t like helping. You…you always said I was…you helped if I asked, or if you were scared I would die if you didn’t, but you…you never, ever, not if you can help it, help me, because…because you thought I was more than just another thief. And I am, I’m the best, but…to you, you always seemed to be watching after me, as if insisting that I could be better than what I strove for,” Clint answered and Coulson sighed, before he touched his nose to Clint’s forehead.

“Now is not the time to be having great philosophical discussions. And you’re rescuing a princess. I think I can be more helpful. And I don’t help because I like you to think it through on your own. If I always helped you, you’d never use your brain, and I want you to use your brain. You are very smart when you put your mind to it,” Coulson retorted and looked pointedly away, as if embaressed by his admission.

Clint smiled and his eyes fell on the collar.

He had gotten caught because of Clint.

He had been dragged down and humiliated because of Clint’s stupid decision.

And he was going to make it right.

But he was also going to listen to Coulson’s advice.

So with a soft sigh, he began to make his way down to the back of the castle and to where the kitchen entry was.

He glanced back, once, during his rocky decent to find that Coulson had already slid away into the shadows, hidden from sight. He let out a low sigh and continued to move, being careful as he continued to slip through.  
  
He, eventually, got to the kitchen door and opened it, only to run into a page, red hair short and cropped close. The page stumbled back and crashed into the table, upending it and sending platters of food flying. Clint backed off quickly as the page leapt up, immediately trying to drive a cooking knife into his chest.  
  
However, that movement, allowing the hair to fall into the face, and Clint grabbed her wrist. "Princess Natasha, right?" he greeted and she struggled for a moment before she bit him.  
  
Clint resisted the urge to scream and then the sound of guards announcing that the prisoner had escaped echoed. "Damn it! Look at what you did!" she growled and Clint stared.  
  
"What  _I_  did? I'm just here to rescue you!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Great plan! Except, now, we'll both get caught!" she shouted and they turned as a guard entered.  
  
"Halt, in the name of Emperor Doom!" the guard called and Clint didn’t think, he just moved.

He doesn’t pause as he begins to shoot at the Doom Knights, as they are known throughout the surrounding kingdoms, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the unholy shrieks of pain that erupt from the enchanted armor when his arrows sever the ties that connect said souls to the armor out of his head.


	6. A Discussion on Trust and Stupidity

Clint has to fight not only guards, but Princess Natasha as well.

If he didn't need her to save Coulson's life, he would have probably shot her or something at this point. Instead, he finds himself forced to defend himself from both the Doom Knights and Natasha, who is bound and determined to try and get him captured by the Doom Knights, who will harvest his soul and turn him into one like them, or worse, Doom will enslave him and put him under a type of collaring that would put Coulson's to shame.  
  
Clint just focuses on getting them out and tears after Natasha when she bolts, quickly catching up to her. "Why are you following me?" she snarled.  
  
"I told you, I'm here to rescue you!" Clint shot back, sliding and turning in one motion to shoot five Doom Knights with perfect precision and then running back after Natasha. They are working their way up the cliff face and Natasha is kicking rocks down on him, trying to knock him back into the waiting Doom Knights.  
  
"Well, I can rescue myself! Now, stop following me!" Natasha snapped.  
  
"Not even if an abomination of the Void burst up between me and you," Clint snapped back and fired off two more arrows quickly before dashing up after her.  
  
Natasha is already taking off and Clint is about ready to  _murder_  her.

If she takes off, if he doesn't take her back to Fury unharmed, Coulson dies, and he's  _not_  going to let that happen.  
  
He shouldn't have worried as Coulson leaps out of the shadows and quickly pins Natasha. She growls and snarls, and probably injures Coulson a bit before Clint manages to grab Natasha and, eventually, pins her to the dirt, using the fact she's a twitchy, twirly, female to his advantage and remembering a female mercenary he used to travel with who taught him how to pin such people.  
  
"Look, I don't like this anymore then you, but I'm taking you back to your father, even if I have to truss you up like a dead deer and carry you on the back of my wolf, do you understand me?" he demanded.  
  
Her response to that was to spit at him, the lob of saliva and mucus hitting him squarely on the cheek.

He considered himself lucky that it wasn’t his eye.  
  
He glared at her, growling lowly, and was about to verbally respond to that when the sound of "Halt in the name of the Emperor of Lateveria!" echoed across the rocks.  
  
Clint immediately got off of her, though he still held her securely and carefully, out of concern for Coulson not the bratty little princess, threw her over Coulson's back and jumped up after her. Clint gripped Natasha tightly and grabbed the collar to help keep their balance, as she’s fighting him and probably bruising Coulson’s sides (and really, she’s pissing him off), reluctantly grateful that it was there.

 Coulson barely waited long enough for them to settle before taking off, Clint having to balance a fighting Princess Natasha while trying not to fall off of Coulson's back.  
  
All in all, as rescues go, this was more of a fight with whom he was supposed to rescue as opposed to any actual rescuing going on.  
  
And he got spit in the face.  
  
Not the most glamorous rescue in the world, and certainly not one that would be recited accurately if it were ever made into a tale.

All in all, Clint was only going to be too happy to dump her in the throne room at Fury’s feet.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Coulson slowed to a stop and Clint released Natasha, who jumped off, earning a yelp of pain from Coulson and Clint swings off to glower at the furious Natasha. She is brandishing a knife that is much nicer than the one from the kitchen and Clint is pretty sure that if she used it on Coulson, he is knocking her unconscious and dragging her back to Shield.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you are doing here, but there is no way that you are my _rescuer_. More like another abductor and I can make my own way from here!”

They are the in middle of nowhere. There is a distant rise of mountains behind them that is where Doom’s castle is, a distant spot that could be trees or something worse, and he knows off in a vague easterly direction is the Enchanted Wood which, due to her being an idiot, she can’t go that way to remain out of harm’s way.

Clint snorts. “Look, I sure as the Void wish I _weren’t_ , but I am. I got stuck with the job, and I am going to do the job, even if I have to drag you all the way back to Fury and your pretty little castle that is filled with your pretty little toys where you can whine to your daddy about how I was evil and a moron, and I really won’t care, because I will have fulfilled my half of the bargain, which will mean I get my reward. And that means I can get back to my life. Which I really, really, want. Besides, you need me, because I don’t see you getting _anywhere_ without my help,” Clint retorted and he walked around to make sure Coulson hadn’t been stabbed.

No.

Just kicked.

He glanced up and she was glaring at him. “My father would never have hired such an _idiot_ to rescue me,” Natasha snarled.

Clint just shrugged and continued to check Coulson over for injuries. He heard her walking off and, not even looking up, called out, “That’s not the way to Shield.”

More movement.

“Not that way either,” he responded and he heard her snarl at him.

“You aren’t even looking at me!” she hissed.

“I don’t need to,” Clint answered, reassured that Coulson was not severely injured and he focused on her.

She was pointing her knife at him. “Which way?” she demanded.

“If you want to get caught, just go that way. The other way, the way where you _won’t_ get caught again, most likely, we zig-zag, which was what I did last time I left Doom’s favorite castle, which is probably why Fury rooted me out,” Clint answered, pointing to a south-easterly direction.

She glanced in that direction, then back at him. “Why should I believe anything you say?” she demanded, cold and hard.

Clint suddenly believed that she could have rescued herself.

It was the _getting back_ part that she wouldn’t be able to do. Her voice was cold, hard, that voice of someone who had killed and would do it again in a heartbeat.

Clint wondered how Fury found her, and wondered if it had been when Natasha tried to assassinate him.

It seemed like the sort-of thing that would make Fury want to adopt someone.

“I have no idea,” Clint answered honestly and she seemed thrown by it.

Behind him, Coulson sighed softly. “Enough,” he rumbled out and Natasha turned on the wolf, knife pointing at him and Clint pointedly stepped between the knife and the princess.

“It talked,” she stated and Clint’s eyes narrowed.

“ _He_. _He_ talked. Not ‘it.’ Coulson is _not_ an ‘it’. He is a he and he will be treated with respect,” Clint hissed lowly, hand coming to rest on the knife he so rarely used.

Coulson’s nose gently bumped his temple and he stepped forward. “Princess Natasha, whether you believe us or not is not important in the long run. Just realize that, either way, we will be going with you. We will travel with you and, at the end of that journey, we will leave you in the capable hands of King Nicholas Fury, and we will continue on with our lives. You need to realize that this will happen, even if I must carry you in my jaws like a live kill I am going to release so cubs can learn to hunt,” Coulson stated.

Coulson then knelt down slightly and Clint hopped on. He held his hand out for Natasha and she stared at him.

She then holstered her knife and took Clint’s hand, swinging up behind him.

“I refuse to believe you are Hawkeye,” she stated and Clint shrugged.

“Not my problem,” he answered and leaned over.

She followed his movement and Coulson began to take off once more.

Once more carrying Clint to Thorn Wood.


	7. Thorn Wood

Natasha walked calmly through the Thorn Wood, ignoring how the thorns caught her skin and left blood welling up in the cuts. She continued walking, even when she stumbled a bit over roots she never saw, and contemplated the man before her.

He had said, after traveling until Coulson had stopped, in the dead of night, that she could call him Clint. She knew who Coulson was, that she would respect the giant wolf, who had found water, clean, for them all, and she would never say anything ill of the beast with impossible eyes and a coat blacker then a starless and moonless night, or she would find herself trussed up and dragged behind them.

Clint had said this all with eyes dark and hard, deadly, flecks of ice, and she had believed him.

She thought he would do worse if he didn’t need her alive.

She followed him because she truly had no choice, the wolf following her.

However, she still refused to believe this ‘Clint’ was Hawkeye.

Because Hawkeye was a genius. He planned with great precision and, if pressed, and she had a wish to be honest, Natasha had a bit of a crush on the man.

The thief and the Greatest Marksman in the World.

He had certainly lived up to both titles.

This man, this man couldn’t.

But he fit it.

A giant wolf, large enough to ride, a bow carved from a wood the color of blood, arrows fletched with turkey and goose feathers, except one that was with crow feathers.

Everyone said it was his special arrow.

She had no idea what it was.

However, there were changes.

The first being this man ahead of her was a moron.

The second being that Hawkeye’s wolf did not talk.

Only Fae beasts talked.

And this wolf, this wolf was not a Fae beast.

Fae beasts were insane wild things, unable to remain loyal to anything but themselves and their royalty, depending on if they were in the vein.

Everyone knew that.

So, it was likely that he was a brother or something, transformed, and this man, Clint, had done a deal for some of the dragon’s magic to free his brother.

That made sense.

And Fury was the only king who had access to a dragon.

He was probably from her father then, but he was no Hawkeye.

But only Hawkeye had ever broken in and out of Doom’s castle and lived to tell the tale.

So why lie about it?

Maybe he had done it, but didn’t brag?

But why not?

Maybe he just wanted to blame it on Hawkeye, but she had only heard of only _one_ time of Hawkeye breaking in, and out, of Doom’s favorite castle.

She mulled over these thoughts and continued to follow after Clint.

She never turned around to look back at Coulson, who walked through the forest, the thorns pulling away to let him pass unencumbered, his paws bending none of the grass.

She missed the way Thorn Wood curled around to almost watch him walk ahead.

For Thorn Wood was a magical place and was attracted to magical people.

It had been grown from magic and to magic it would return.

So it found others like it very fascinating indeed.


	8. Lord and the Beast

“What in the Void is _that_?” Clint questioned and Natasha followed his gaze to stare up at the tower that rose above them, thorny vines curled around it.

“That is the Tower of Sleeping. A century ago, a prince, frail, sickly, dying, was placed in an enchanted sleep to save his life. His parents traded their entire kingdom for his safety and disappeared, leaving him with only an immortal guard for company,” Coulson explained, staring up at the tower as if it was something that he both hated and revered.

“So, avoid?” Clint asked.

“Not necessarily. Nothing comes here that means harm to the place. The Wood would never allow it,” Coulson answered calmly.

Natasha stared at him and noticed that there were in a sort of clearing, and realized that the vines weren’t vines, but thorny roots, coming from the tower and she stared. “Thorn Wood is magic?” she questioned and Clint chuckled lowly at that.

“Yes. It sprung up from the tower, to protect the occupant. To protect the Sleeping Prince and the Immortal Warrior, though the Immortal Warrior hardly needs it,” Coulson answered softly and began to walk past when a distant roar echoed over the thorny trees.

Clint immediately prepped his bow, an arrow set, and Natasha drew her knife, while Coulson become a snarling wall of muscle. “What was that?” Natasha demanded.

“Something big and something we do not want to face,” Coulson answered, ears twitching before he turned to lead them away when he pulled back slightly.

Clint just nodded grimly and began to move sideways when someone, dark haired and dark eyed, dressed in what could have been nice clothes but were worse for wear, stumbled into the clearing, oblivious to the three of them. “Bruce!” he shouted and Coulson perked up slightly.

The man turned and stared at them. “Have you seen a giant green rage monster or a man in tattered clothing?” he asked.

Clint grit his teeth and nodded shortly. The man stumbled forward, and easily avoided the arrow pointed at him. “Where?” he asked, eyes begging and Clint stared at him before he relaxed.

“Not since the Enchanted Wood, but Coulson can find him for you, if he wants,” Clint answered and Coulson stood forward.

Natasha frowned and another roar came, much closer. Coulson’s ears lay back against his head and the man turned around, and then stared at Coulson.

“Can you take me to him?” the man asked.

Coulson shook his head and Natasha wondered why he wasn’t talking. She wondered if it was some code word and then she watched as Coulson walked over to the tower.

He reached up and scratched at the door.

There was a ripple through the Thorn Wood, another roar and the sound of someone, someone _large_ landing close by that made the ground tremble. Coulson backed up slowly as the door opened and a man stepped out.

He had thick brown hair and cold brown eyes.

He stared at Coulson calmly, another roar ripping through and he huffed. “You’re late,” he stated, even as a giant, green, rage monster landed in the clearing with an earth-shaking crash.


	9. Calm the Savage Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has cussing. I have no idea why.
> 
> But it has a lot.
> 
> The f-bomb gets used.

Coulson merely stepped to the side, and the man stepped out, glancing at the giant green rage monster, who the strange man was already focused on.

In fact, he seemed to have it complete under control. “Hey Bruce, it’s me, Tony. Rough patch, huh? I know, I know you’re upset, but everything’s gonna be fine, okay? Just, can you calm down just a little?” he said and the warrior, because that just came off him in waves gave a nod before he focused on Coulson.

“You’re fucking late, just sayin’. You’re a horrible, cruel, Void tainted, wolf and I hate you. Where the hell is your archer? You said you wouldn’t come the fuck back till you got the archer, and seriously, you better fucking have him Coulson, just saying. Because, if not, Peggy will murder you and I will not save you. But thanks for including her in the damn spell, because I don’t want to deal with a morose Steve,” the man growled out and Coulson snorted.

“I’m here. Should I be worried?” Clint responded.

“Nah. He just said something about you in the vague, archer, sense. Coulson never comes unless he has a purpose. He hates and loves this place. He considers it both a cursed memorial and a blessed shrine. It gets complicated,” the man explained.

Clint nodded and walked over, ignoring where Tony was talking down the giant green rage monster and Natasha watched it all with calculating eyes. Said monster was settling down and Tony was sitting down, the monster’s head resting on his lap, but barely fitting, and Clint was now petting Coulson’s head.

“He’s not Void tainted,” Clint cut in softly.

“Nah. I just insult him out of deep affection. He knows that,” the warrior answered and eyed Clint.

“Bucky,” he introduced.

“Clint. That’s Natasha. I am taking her to her father so Coulson and I can move on with our lives,” Clint responded and Natasha glowered at him for introducing her.

Bucky nodded and glanced over to see Tony holding a passed out man in ruined clothing. “I got somethin’ that’ll fit. And maybe, just maybe, one of you can help us with our problem,” Bucky stated, and Tony stood, carrying Bruce.

Clint shrugged a bit, reached back and grabbed Natasha before walking in. Tony walked in and Coulson followed.

He stopped dead when he felt a hand land on his shoulders. “I know Peggy talked to you, but I’m going to now. She made her choice, and she’s been happy. A little lonely, but happy. But Pepper didn’t. And Pepper had it made for her. And she did not like it,” Bucky warned softly and Coulson let out a low sigh before he continued forward.

He looked up, where Clint was fighting with Natasha, quietly and Tony was looking at them with curious eyes and Bruce was still asleep.

“But if I make my choice, and it is the wrong one, I will destroy everything,” Coulson answered.

“No such thing as a wrong choice when it’s yours. I’m immortal. Sold myself over to eternity, and trust me, neither of my friends are gonna be that way. Not even you, Coulson. So, keep that in mind,” Bucky retorted and shut the door firmly behind them.

“ _Up_ the stairs,” he ordered and they immediately walked up.

Coulson merely sighed softly and followed after Bucky. Natasha was walking up and Clint was waiting for him, frowning at him in confusion.

Coulson wagged his tail slightly and Clint smiled before turning and walking up the stairs.

And Coulson wondered if it was ever his choice to begin with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that was anti-climatic.


	10. Sleeping Prince

Natasha stared as a woman, beautiful and brown haired, greeted Coulson like an old friend and, on the bed, a man (who was as frail and thin as Coulson’s story), asleep, while the other, Bucky, sat down at the foot, watching. “Coulson, this must be your archer,” she greeted and Coulson nodded while Tony, behind the screen got Bruce changed into clothes that fit and were not rags.

Natasha was confused.

“Hi,” Clint answered and she smiled.

“I’m Peggy. I’m sure Coulson never spoke of me, not his fault, but you’re taking this well,” she answered.

“I didn’t the first time. Of course, the first time I was seven and very confused and thought whoever was talking to me was insane,” Clint answered calmly, smiling as if all was right with the world and Peggy laughed.

“Coulson has picked up so many strange ones over the years. But we really were hoping one of you could help us,” she responded and then walked back over to the bed as Tony stepped back around, staring at the man.

“Why is he covered in Sleeping Dust?” Tony questioned, walking over.

He then glared at the other two.

“Why aren’t you two affected by it?” he added.

“Not human anymore,” Bucky stated with a shrug.

Peggy merely smiled and didn’t answer. “Huh. Good. You remind me of Pepper. I liked Pepper, but we don’t talk about Pepper anymore, at all. Especially around Bruce,” Tony responded and then leaned over, carefully, to stare at the man on the bed.

“We need Bruce. Unless anyone else here has experience with Sleeping Dust,” Tony responded as he stood.

“I do,” Natasha offered before she could stop herself and stared as three sets of eyes settled on her.

Neither Clint nor Coulson were in that number.

“I used to use it…often. Before I was a princess. It is complicated,” Natasha explained.

Tony stared and then clicked his fingers. “You’re Princess Natasha Fury. Fury’s adopted daughter. Heir to the throne. Scarier than the Darkest Pits of Despair. You tried to kill me once, I think,” he answered.

Natasha gave a smirk. “I’m surprised you remember. You were drunk at the time,” she answered and Peggy stood up.

“You can help him?” she asked and Natasha glanced at Steve before nodding.

“Yeah, I can,” she answered.

She didn’t know what to do when Peggy suddenly hugged her.

She tensed, but did not move.

Peggy released her and smiled before she turned to Coulson, who was settling on the floor and Clint relaxed against him.

“I’m going to sleep while I can,” Clint announced and Peggy just nodded, even as Clint closed his eyes and, for all intents and purposes, passed out.

Tony ‘huh’ed and Bucky stood up. “Tony, we can help you move Bruce to a room,” he stated.

Tony nodded and went around the screen and returned with Bruce in his arms.

And then they left her alone with three sleeping people.

One was a giant wolf who had shattered all her previous ideas of what he was to know the truth of the story.

Another was a man who she was starting to believe might _actually_ be _the_ Hawkeye.

And the other was a century old prince who they were asking her to wake up.

And Natasha wondered when she had stepped into a reality where people _trusted_ her.


End file.
